


bulletproof vests

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Can be read alone, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, cop! atsumu, cop! sakusa, its a side story to a multi chap it writing, yes another au and this time its cops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which it takes Atsumu getting shot for Sakusa to realise how he really feels about him.(a oneshot set in the universe of my cops au)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 125





	bulletproof vests

**Author's Note:**

> yes another universe and what about it
> 
> if you yell with me about this au ill love you forever

Sakusa Kiyoomi was never late. He couldn’t sit too close to other officers, he despised sharing things, and the sight of blood made him mildly woozy, but hey, at least he was punctual. Well, except for today. He would have been perfectly on time, ready for his morning meeting if he hadn’t had to chase down some random guy speeding like a maniac. He had been about two minutes away from the station when he saw a car speed past him.

“Hey!” He had yelled out, and the owner of the car screeched to a stop. Somehow he had heard Sakusa over the rumble of his engine through his open windows. Sakusa stomped over to the driver’s side of the car and knocked on the window. When the man inside rolled down the window, he looked at Sakusa, unimpressed. Sakusa abruptly realised he wasn’t wearing his uniform, and dug his badge out of his pocket.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi. I’m a police officer and-”

“I’m driving too fast, I know, I know. Listen dude. I’m late for work and it’s my first day. Could you maybe let me go? I promise I won’t speed or anything, I swear.” 

Maybe it was the fact that the guy was unfairly attractive. His hair was bleached blonde, and his eyes were a nice brown. If he wasn’t so pissed at the guy for making him late, Sakusa might have considered talking to him pleasantly. Instead, he settles on letting him go with a warning. 

He tells himself, all the while, it’s not because his decisions are swayed by hot guys. (Okay, this time he might have been swayed, but to be fair, the guy in question was very hot.)

Which led him to being very, very late to roll call. So late, in fact, that when he rushed into the meeting room, he interrupted the Sergeant from speaking about the upcoming call. Sakusa worked hard. Harder than most, harder than any of the B-list cops that came for the badge and stayed for the benefits that wearing the dress blues offered them. He worked so hard and was so meticulous he managed to scare off every partner he had ever had. And if that wasn’t enough to scare them off, the revelation that he played for both teams definitely did, the homophobic jackasses that they were. 

So he kept his sexuality a secret, and became even more meticulous. He didn’t have time for people who bent their authority to their advantage. Internal Affairs had reached out to him on multiple occasions, asking him, begging him to join their ranks, but Sakusa liked Patrol. He liked the feeling of being out and about helping citizens (though he despised any kind of physical contact.) It was his contradictions that scared them off sometimes too. Even so, Patrol wasn’t the dream. He wanted to be a detective, someone who could constantly help people, investigating crime scenes - the thought made him more excited than anything else in his life. He pushed, to be better, to be the best so that he could achieve the goal, regardless of the fact no one around him seemed to be as driven. 

That hard work, that drive, would have made him the top candidate for this mission, the top candidate to work alongside the detectives on this particular case. It was his. Until this occasion. He could see the Sergeant’s irritation, and he could feel his heart sinking. God, all that work, for nothing. Wasted for a guy who got off easy without a ticket. He wishes he had given him a ticket, maybe he could have billed that on overtime (he hadn’t even had his ticket book on him, but he was too dismayed to honestly care.) 

He was definitely zomingout. He didn’t want to reveal the horror on his face, he didn’t want to look at the faces of his spiteful colleagues as they saw the so-called “Mr. Perfect, Sakusa Kiyoomi” fall. He was so zoned out, that he didn’t quite understand what the Sergeant meant when he said he was getting a new partner. He had just gotten rid of the last one, so he wasn’t expecting one this quick. 

(To be fair, having a partner meant he could go out on Patrol again, but still. He didn’t need another incompetent person to add to his troubles.)

The sergeant continued. “We all know you want this job like your life depends on it. The captain and IA are upset about how quickly you run through partners, though.” His tone was light, but his face conveyed the grim reality. He didn’t deal with this partner? His dream of becoming a detective went down the drain. The sergeant motioned to some guy behind Sakusa to walk up and introduce himself as the newest addition to their department. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Sakusa was tempted to ask the person next to him to pinch him. There was no way those exact same broad shoulders, that exact same piss blond dyed hair, that exact same smirk was standing in front of him. He might laugh. Or scream. Or cry. (He would do all of them at once, but then everyone might think he was even more psychotic than they already did. 

Why the hell was fucking Lightning McQueen here? The sergeant adjourned the meeting, and the man Sakusa was now calling Lightning Mcqueen in his head approached him. 

He held out his hand in front of him in a gesture Sakusa assumed was supposed to be a handshake. He only looked down at the outstretched hand, unimpressed. 

“A little rude, don’t ya think? Considering I’m your lifeline, and all.” That stupid accent made it even worse. It was even worse when they were picking up their gear to load into his car. “Gloves just to grab your gear? You do know that it’s sanitized, right?” He then continued to smirk while Sakusa rubbed his alcohol cleaning wipes all over everything that had been touched by the attendant, but at least he didn’t say anything.

That was more than he could say for his last partner, who hated the fact that Sakusa made him get up early to sanitise their gear, especially if they were just gonna touch it anyways. “You don’t know where it’s been, Sakusa wants to tell them.” It took him years to get used to not wearing his mask on the job. At least he could wear it at the station, he reminded himself, but it made him look unapproachable to civilians, IA had said. IA was a pain up his ass, he thought.

He hadn’t always been so mysophobic. Before, it had just been a general discomfort, but nowadays he found himself washing his hands every few minutes. And god forbid he got assigned on crowd control.

Which is why, Miya Atsumu made him very, very uncomfortable. He had started by calling him “Omi-omi!” a ridiculous abbreviation of his first name. That being irritating enough, he was already prepared to despise Atsumu Miya. He retaliated by calling him only by his last name,, despite his protests about his twin brother being Miya or something like that. He had zoned out after seeing the overly dramatic betrayed look on his face. Atsumu, sorry, Miya, was far more flamboyant than his old partners. Had he seen the smirk under the mask on Sakusa’s face, he might have laughed too. Or maybe he would have caused a tantrum. Actually Sakusa had no idea what he would have done. It’s what made Atsumu so interesting. Did he say interesting? He meant irritating.

Another stupidly irritating thing Atsumu did was touch him. Whether it was a brush of shoulders as he maneuvered around Sakusa, a brush of fingers when he passed him something, and arm around him when he got excited, Atsumu was touchy. The sergeant had nearly jumped up and sang Kumbaya when he saw Atsumu hugging Sakusa (in a friendly way, he had to remind himself). Sakusa didn’t know why he allowed it at the time. He didn’t know why he lied in bed imagining the feel of his arms around him when he should have been imagining the thousands of germs that could have crawled on him during that interaction, should have been clawing at the places where skin made contact with a scrubber and soap. 

Why was he so tolerant of Atsumu? He didn’t quite understand, to be honest. Somehow, the jackass had wormed his way into every aspect of Sakusa’s life. Patrol went from being quiet and awkward to Atsumu laughing around with him.

They had given out a few tickets, one morning, when Atsumu asked him the question. 

“So, Omi-omi. What team do ya play for?”

“Team? Like a volleyball team?” His heart was pounding. The one friend Sakusa had had in years (did Atsumu consider him a friend? Who knew.)

“Ye know what I mean, ya donkey. Yer sexuality. Yer preference.” Atsumu wasn’t making eye contact with him. He guessed that he must have heard the rumors. It was a small enough department. 

“I’m bi, ye know.” Atsumu blurted out when the silence got too long. “I wouldn’t say anything.”

Sakusa exhaled. “Yeah, same.” Atsumu had somehow changed the topic after that, after getting the information he wanted, maybe? He had known Sakusa didn’t want to talk about it. The air was still awkward between them, though. It was a strange gap that Sakusa didn’t know how to cross. He kept thinking that maybe Atsumu didn’t want him to cross it. 

(He did, though. He wanted to cross the gap and jump into Atsumu’s arms, regardless of the fact that he could fired form his job. It was one of the other reasons he was uncomfortable about Atsumu. It was because he was far too comfortable.)

(Why was he this happy to be around Lightning Mcqueen?)

(He thought he might know. Shit.)

The mission, when it does finally arrive, is probably what Sakusa’s entire life has led up to. It’s one thing to spend so much time with the detectives and see what he wants to be in such close action. It’s one thing to spend so many late nights hunched over a table, talking to Atsumu in a hushed voice, picking apart leads and throwing away dead ends. 

It’s the ruhs, the thrill he gets when they drive to the area where the drug bust is happening. His heart might pound straight out of his chest. He wanted to be in that moment forever. It might have gotten better when he finally got out of the car. The gun pointed in front of him, he kicked down the door of the warehouse and started clearing his way through, knowing his partner was right behind him. He had only one more room to clear when he heard a bang. His heart came up in his throat.

He probably should have been thinking about how the fire of a gun shot gave away their position, but instead all he could think was “Atsumu.” 

He yelled “Shots fired! Send backup to our location!” into his walkie and ran towards the noise of the gunshot. There was a nasty wound on Atsumu’s chest, done by the kind of heavy machinery than should not have been involved in this mission. God, if Atsumu got injured, just because he wanted to take this mission - he was going to kill them.

He didn’t care who they were, what they wanted, but they would pay. He waited until backup arrived, until he was sure someone was going to take care of Atsumu, and then he picked up his gun.

The cold look in his eyes when he got a glimpse of himself in a random window didn’t scare him. The blood spilled that day, the injuries he got, the flesh wound done by a knife that probably hadn’t been cleaned in years didn’t scare him. Sakusa only had one thought pounding through his head.

It was risky, to put so much on the line, to go into a job thinking it was personal.

Sakusa wasn't thinking about those either. He’d worry about those once he got the call that Atsumu was alright.

When he heard Atsumu would be fine in about a week, Sakusa decided to take the week off. He put it down as a personal emergency, he didn’t know what else to put it as. Somewhere between the time he had pulled him over to yell at him for speeding to now he had made Atsumu his. Personal. Someone he loved.

He sat by his bed everyday, waiting for him to get up. He sat there tirelessly, alternating between looking through his phone and then turning it off when he sees a meme that reminds him of Atsumu, reading books but finding that he doesn’t like the hero as much as Atsumu, eating snack but wondering if Atsumu would like some too.

He had gotten a habit of grabbing a snack from the vending machine for Atsumu too, when he went to get one for himself. There was a pile of snacks building up on his side table, now.

When Atsumu comes too, he looks at Sakusa through half lidden eyes.

“Kiyoomi.” He says hoarsely. “Are you alright?” 

Sakusa starts to laugh. “I’m alright? You got shot. I should be asking you.”

“Better me than you.” Atsumu says. “I dreamt of you, I think. You were right beside me.” 

“It wasn’t a dream.” He responds seriously. “I was here.”

“But will you stay?” Atsumu asks, offering his hand carefully to Sakusa. He knows it isn’t just him asking him to give him company. The question holds much more meaning than that.

“I don’t plan on leaving.” he tells him honestly. He dips his head down to Atsumu’s, who looks at him in surprise. He reaches his hands to Sakusa’s face, and he shivers when he feels cold fingers pull down his mask.

He reaches down, inching closer, and closer, until their lips meet. It’s comfortable. It’s just like he imagined, god it’s Atsumu, sitting right here when he might have died, it’s Atsumu looking at him like he loves him. 

“We’re investing in more bulletproof vests.” he says against Atsumu’s lips. He doesn’t tell him that he demanded that the department invest in better tactical gear, that he sent in about 50 proposals to ensure the chief saw at least one of them.

Atsumu smiles against his lips. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.’ He murmurs back. 

And he’s right. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr and ig on @snazzieyama


End file.
